


Every Mile A Memory

by lizook12



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:00:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2132850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizook12/pseuds/lizook12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I didn’t realize I was quite that distracting though."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Mile A Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to **effie214** for the prompt. 
> 
> Title taken from the Dierks Bentley song of the same name.

Smiling, she presses her knees into his sides, wraps her arms tighter around his waist as the motorcycle smoothly turns the corner. She knows he’s done it on purpose, jostled them together when, at the next S curve, he revs the engine and leans back into her instead of into the corner.

It shouldn’t work, but they’ve been on hundreds of rides now and she automatically compensates for the shift in balance, matches his movements.

(It’s something they’ve always done.

Will always do.)

The trip continues on course for another minute and then, suddenly, they’re slowing.

Pulling off the road and into the grass.

Glancing over her shoulder, she leans back in her seat, wonders if she should take her helmet off.

They had talked about stopping somewhere along the coast to eat lunch, but this is nowhere near that spot and—

The realization hits and she immediately loses it.

Her helmet falls to the ground, shoulders shaking with laughter as he roughly twists the key and climbs off the bike.

“Did we...” She can’t get any more words out honestly. The thought is too much and she lets out a gasp somewhere between a laugh and a sigh.

“Yes.” He practically growls it, his helmet landing next to hers on the grass as he shakes his head and kicks the ground in frustration.     

It’s the action more than the words that register and she presses her lips together, shades her eyes against the midday sun as she climbs off the bike.

They’re out of gas.

It’s absurd.

Insane.

Absolutely hilarious.

Her always prepared, keeps a spare mask in the glove box of their car, partner somehow forgot to check the gas gauge.

A fresh wave of giggles starts as he pulls out his phone and starts texting someone—probably Roy; Digg and Lyla had that family reunion—to rescue them.

Really, it’s a good thing this didn’t happen while she was at the lair and he was out patrolling because she would have been doubled over and unable to send back-up.

Their gazes meet as he slides his phone back in his pocket, his jaw set, left eyebrow lifting in that way that’s half irritation, half amusement.

The familiarity of it sends a rush of heat coursing through her and she grins at him, her fingers twisting in the soft cotton of his shirt, tugging him to her.

“I knew...” She scrapes her teeth over his jaw, her hands drifting under his tee, pressing hotly to his lower back. “Knew I should have put a jacket on over my tank top... Didn’t realize I was quite _that_ distracting though...”

“Mmmm.” It’s all he can really manage, a rumble of acceptance—possession—against her throat and then his lips are crashing on hers, one hand supporting them against the bike as the other skims up her thigh, over her hip and...

“...start leaving... oh...” Sighing, she sucks at his bottom lip, splays her hand across the nape of his neck, driving him even closer. “Leaving sticky notes on your keys so you remember to check how much gas there is.”

“Just in... shit...” He groans, forehead pressed to hers as her hips lift, rocking against him.  “In the bike?”

“No, the bike and the car and the surveillance van and...” A lazy smile spreads over her face, lights her eyes, as she closes the slight distance between them once more.

It’s a softer kiss this time, yet no less full of heat.

Need.

Her tongue strokes over his roughly, explores and tastes, as one hand drifts slowly down his body and cups him through his pants.

He groans into her mouth, the hand on her breast spasming slightly as he forces himself to pull away.

“Hey, you...” His lips brush over her cheek, thumb pebbles her nipple through the fabric of her bra. “You were the one who walked into the dining room table watching me do push-ups this morning.”

“They were one handed!”

“Mhmm.”

With one swift tug the tank top—which has been driving him crazy all morning, thank you very much—is pushed high on her chest, his tongue tracing the curve of her breast, teasing along the edge of her bra and then...

“Fuuuuck...”

“Yeah?”

“Yessss.”

Her nails dig into his scalp and he grins against her as she guides him back to the place he’s just left, urging him to begin suckling her through the silky fabric once more.

Tongue circling her nipple, he gently cups her other breast and begins rocking against her.

She immediately picks up the rhythm, one leg wrapping around his waist as they move against each other.

Hard.

Fast.

“You are...”

“I know, you... oh, I’m....” Her hips still, head falls back and he glances up, dimples appearing as he takes in the heat of her gaze. “Don’t you dare stop.”  

Her jaw is set, cheeks flushed, as her heel presses into his ass, hands wander from his shoulders to his waist over and over.

“Never.” He kisses her lightly and then bows his head, a cool breath blowing against her before he takes her in his mouth again.

Her back immediately arches, fingers tunneling through his hair as pushes her higher against the bike.

“I’m... I mean, the same, I just... Oh shit, Oliver, I’m...”

“Yeah, Felicity, come on.” He brushes his jaw against her skin, lifts her leg higher on his waist. “Come for me, I know you’re clo—”

“Yesssss.” She gasps, body flying forward into his embrace as her orgasm rocks her. “Yesyesyes. So damn good.”    

“You are.” Smirking, he kisses the corner of her mouth, runs his hands down her sides, carefully lowering her shirt.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Slowly, she starts to move against him, her nails raking down his spine, across his hip before—

He suddenly steps back, fingers lacing roughly through hers.

“What?”

He almost laughs at the way her brow furrows, her bottom lip presses between her teeth.

God, he fucking loves her.

“I need to be in you and it’s too risky...” He takes a half step forward, gesturing to the road. “Right now. But...” His thumb draws light circles against the palm of her hand, lips dance over her temple. “As soon as Roy fucking gets here we are getting back on the road and putting that blanket you packed to good use at _our_ spot on the bluff.”


End file.
